


Pain Relief

by Harukami



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heat's anger hurts himself most at all, and Serph wants to see him get some relief.</p>
<p>(I still haven't uploaded all of my olllld DDS fics but here have a new one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain Relief

Heat's been acting strangely ever since they got to the new base, and it's concerning Serph. Lately, Heat's been giving off a sense like anger has swollen in him and has been pushing spikes out through his skin, like it fills him too completely for him to do anything but feel angry from the pressure, and feel pain from the spikes. Sure, they hurt other people too, if they try to get close to him or if he tries to get close to them, but it's Heat who's in constant pain from them, Heat who's feeling it without any ability to get away from himself.

He will probably lash out when Serph goes to address it, but Serph has always been fine with a little pain if it can be shared.

Serph finds Heat standing alone in the little alcove room next to their new temporary 'strategy room'. There's a faint smear of blood on one of the walls, and Serph glances at his hand, sees the torn knuckles there. Carefully, he picks his way over to Heat and touches that arm.

"Serph," Heat says. "What do you want?"

What an idiot. With a sub-vocal sigh, Serph squeezes his arm.

A strange expression crosses Heat's face, something between embarrassment and relief and rage all at once. "You -- you're trying to comfort me?"

So Heat _does_ need comfort, then. Serph gazes at him evenly, then nods.

"You don't even know -- you idiot, Serph!" Heat snarls, and throws Serph's hand off him, grabbing Serph by the shoulder instead, shoving him hard against the wall. 

Serph's head smacks back against it hard enough that he sees stars for a second, and his teeth clack together hard. But he can see the smear of Heat's blood out of the corner of his eye and doesn't try to move away. 

"Why is it you?" Heat demands. He leans into Serph's face so they're nose to nose, and Serph can feel Heat's uneven, rough and hot breaths gusting against his face. Heat's eyes aren't angry so much as pleading, and he laughs a moment later, bitter and sharp. "What a stupid question. This is why it's you. What you're doing right now. I'm the idiot after all."

It's something Serph's only ever meant fondly, but that's not the tone in Heat's voice right now. Serph can almost envision those sharp points pushing through his skin. He reaches up and cups Heat's cheek, gentle: _come back from yourself_ , he wills him. _I'm here for you._

"You don't get it," Heat tells him. "You really don't get it."

Serph gets enough, though, and doesn't let go, just keeps touching Heat to draw his attention off of himself, back onto Serph. He doesn't look away, either, just trying to help Heat understand with his gaze. Words aren't enough; they usually weren't. Though he knows, too, that Heat is the sort of person who likes to hear things to reassure him. He's chided Serph often enough for saying the wrong thing.

He tries to think of what to say, opens his mouth, but whatever words he might have tried were choked as Heat presses his mouth to Serph's.

This is something that should be unfamiliar but isn't, that too-common sensation of remembering something he hasn't experienced, but that's fine; he knows this and he knows how to react, and it's Heat, so it's fine. He closes his eyes, slides his hand from Heat's cheek back into his hair, and kisses him back, mouth open, tongue flicking out to taste Heat.

Heat doesn't kiss gently, but Serph wouldn't expect him to. He kisses how Serph would expect instead: Rough, a hair's breadth away from tearing into his flesh, a motion as much an ode to devouring as to whatever it is they're doing instead. Serph lets him, for a few moments, permits him passively to eat at his mouth, then surges up and meets it, bites back, fingers clenching roughly in Heat's hair.

With a faint growl deep in his throat, Heat pushes roughly against Serph, pins him back against the wall. Abruptly, Serph tastes blood; isn't sure whose it is, doesn't know if it matters, because Heat is shifting against him with sudden fervour, and he shifts too, arches his body up to get pressure against Heat's thigh, opens his eyes again to gaze at Heat from up close. From this near, Heat's red eyes are flecked with gold. 

Serph's practised fingers unbuckle armour, shoves down Heat's cup, slides a hand against the front of his bodysuit. Heat bites down roughly then, rocks Serph into the wall, and blood floods their mouths again; Serph gulps it and recognizes it as not his blood, not Heat's, but both together, mingled so the flavors meld into each other. Pleasure rushes through him at the realization and he grinds against Heat's thigh, grabs Heat's hard cock through his clothes and rubs and pulls and hisses a soft warning threat into Heat's mouth. It's teasing, not-serious, meant to make Heat harder and Heat hears it, picks that tone up, and lets out a disbelieving, shaky laugh, eyes closing, and he comes.

He knows Heat better than anyone, so he hurries up himself, locks his leg around Heat's to push him in close, grinds, and it's uncomfortable, body armour pressing and rubbing and hot in all the wrong places, but the groan Heat makes, the feeling of a wet heat spreading under his hand is enough to make it all right, and he swallows more blood and comes.

He's still shuddering through it as Heat pulls away abruptly. Heat wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood up to his cheek, and says, voice shaking and cheeks red, "Goddamn it, Serph, now I have to get changed."

_Like I don't_ , Serph thinks indignantly, but lets Heat have his moment, lets Heat adjust his own armour to cover up the worst of it, lets Heat pull away first to get his privacy as he goes to change, as if they don't all store their uniforms in the same place. 

At the door, Heat pauses, glances back over his shoulder -- not enough to meet Serph's eyes, just barely enough to tilt his face in that direction.

"Maybe you do get it," Heat says, and exits.


End file.
